


use somebody--

by ClassyFailure



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Implied abuse, Sadstuck, sappy teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2656382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyFailure/pseuds/ClassyFailure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone like you, And all you know, And how you speak <br/>Countless lovers under cover of the street </p>
<p>You know that I could use somebody <br/>You know that I could use somebody <br/>Someone like you</p>
            </blockquote>





	use somebody--

**Author's Note:**

> its just a short sadstuck thing.

while she enjoys making herself known wherever she goes, she is the most silent being in all of space and time leaning against the doorframe. Shoulders slumped, glasses gone. 

you found the light in every star from every single one of her pearly triangle teeth. 

her shirt is riding high, curled up after a hasty donning. she hasn’t buttoned her pants. didn’t even fucking bother with a bra or socks or shoes. she left herself behind, too. the firework spark about her, the way she flew into every room, toes first, nails tapping impatiently on every surface, her skin vibrating with anticipation of each and every second ahead. she left that somewhere. she should always shake out her pockets before changing, maybe she’ll find it there. 

you’d like to think a little bit of it was here, with you. maybe hiding down in your pocket. small and fragile like the heart of a bird, beating wildly, screaming to return home. 

“Yeah?” you ask. it doesn’t slice the silence or shit. it hangs, floating along on the thick stale air. the whole building is thick, stale air. conversations dont interrupt anything anymore. 

she doesn’t actually say anything - for once - and just keeps standing there. you’re reading rad comics, each of the characters mounted with horns because apparently you can’t have crummy old spiderman and you need troll spiderman and his girlfriend troll spiderlady and fuck you aren’t actually reading anything. liar. 

“Gonna come in? Or? Leave, maybe?” 

“Stop asking questions. The upward inflection of the sentence makes you sound as dumb as you look. “

Charmer. you flip the shag of hair you’ve worked not hard at all to grow over the past two years and give her big baby eyes. “Me?” 

she doesn’t laugh. good? bad? you don’t know. she does not pick up her feet when she shuffles across the floor. your shit piles up around her feet. not. literal shit. but. shirts and junk and. you don’t need to explain to yourself. 

if you look hard enough from a distance, or just blink up close, you can see the hard line of her collarbone jut out through the fabric. It’s set weird, in your human perspective, but the point of it is so hard you feel bile churn in your stomach. her waist has vanished. her hipbones arc and curve through the pants too large for her now. she is growing into herself. the dark rings make her eyes sink further under the sleek black arches of her eyebrows. 

she puts herself on the arm of the couch, barely making a dent. she doesnt turn to face you. She is just there. 

“Dave-”

her teeth sink into her tongue, cobalt blue fountains springing; she swallows hard. 

“Rez?” 

you don’t know what to say. what to think. your eyes follow the lines of bruises down her arms. five long lines wrap around her wrist. something hot builds in you. the couch is too long of a space between the two of you, and still not enough, you move down it to get close to her. 

“Speak to me,” your voice is so low and quiet. if you speak too loudly, you may break her. You put a hand on her knee -- she’s cold, too cold for comfort -- and you pull back. moments flutter by, minutes lost, and the whole meteor is flying through the empty void faster than it takes to process anything. 

“Dave, I’m sorry.” 

there is always something wrong when erratic troll girls apologize. of any species in all the galaxies, none are as vicious as troll girls. you laugh, laugh laugh it out. nothing is more casual than laughing. 

“What would you have to apologize for.”  
“Please don’t patronize me.”  
“Terezi, seriously, you don’t have to apologize for anything.”   
“Dave.”  
“Terezi.” 

you’re too cool for tears. so is she. there’s just a bunch of nothing here, sitting in your lap. a big pile of hot steaming nothing. then she moves. and suddenly its her, in your lap.   
her head rests on your shoulder, her breath the only warm thing about her, your hands in the air, then on her back. you two just hug. its just hugging. nothing “Red” about it. she still isnt crying but she isnt doing much of anything else. Everything is so confusing. Why is everything so complicated? You didn’t ask for this. Fate dropped this on a tarnished platter. 

But you couldn’t let her go. 

The two of you sit there for god knows how long. Eternities fly by. None of the clocks around work anymore, you tell time by cycles of emotion. Everyone is saddest in the early morning hours of one or two. you guess that’s what time it is. it just feels so good to let her use you. to be with her. fuck. you’d forgotten that you almost lov


End file.
